


The Monster That You See

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Vampire AU, Vampire!Pete, also joe and andy don’t really play a huge part... sorry, the band exists but it’s nowhere close to canon compliant, this isn’t a 16 candles au either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 20:29:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17008680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: An ill-fated search for a bus ticket leads Pete to become a vampire. The outside world is not kind to vampires, so Patrick would rather keep him inside, no matter what the cost of that is.





	The Monster That You See

The day Pete was turned didn’t seem all that bad at first.

Pete, Joe, Andy, and Patrick had had their fair share of encounters with vampires. They all carried holy water in their backpacks (yeah, it was stolen, not everyone has a priest friend willing to give it to them for free), and Andy kept a stake with him just in case things got especially ugly.

Pete had always begged him not to. He maintained that vampires were still people, and that killing them was still murder, even if it wasn’t legally considered to be.

“When have you ever cared what the government says?” he’d asked Andy as he’d sharpened a wooden fence post to use as a weapon.

“Look, Pete, they have a point. And it’s not that you can’t be tried for killing a vampire, but that’s only if it’s unprovoked. If they jump me and I stake them, it’s perfectly legal,” Andy explained. Pete had been given this lecture a million times. He didn’t care.

“Yeah, it’s legal, but is it right? They’re people, Andy. They just have… a virus or something.”

“Vampirism isn’t a virus, dumbass.”

“Whatever it is. They’re still fucking people, okay?”

“Okay. So when one of those things is biting your neck and whispering the incantation in your ear to turn you, I won’t stake them.”

“You don’t need to stake them! The holy water works fine.”

“It’d be nice to have weapons we didn’t have to steal.”

“I’m sure you can get some kind of… preacher’s license off the internet or something. Make your own holy water. Just stop killing people!”

“They’re not people. They’re vampires.”

“If it looks like a duck, talks like a duck-“

“Whatever, vamp-fucker.”

“I never fucked that guy. It was an honest mistake.”

“So they’re human until you get one in bed and realize he has fangs?”

“He thought I was one. I do dress like they do.”

“Admit it, you would’ve fucked him if you were one.”

“That’s different. Not being willing to fuck someone isn’t the same as wanting to kill them.”

“You’re missing the point, Pete.”

“You’re a murderer.”

“It’s for emergencies. I’ve never actually had to use it. And I’m not going to, because you’re not going to do anything stupid.”

Pete did wind up doing something stupid. More stupid than hitting on a guy in a club for an hour and not realizing he has fangs. And Andy was too late with his stake.

They had just finished a show at a local bar. That’s what brought them out at night most of the time-playing shows at night and having their only mode of transportation be the city bus. They’d packed up their guitars and swung them over their backs, Andy had pulled out a bottle of holy water just in case, and they’d began making their way to the bus stop.

Pete, being the idiot that he was, had dropped his ticket somewhere between getting off the bus before the show and arriving at the bus stop now. They didn’t have money to pay the fare, and walking all the way back and trying to find the ticket in the dark was just too stupid.

“Pete, I swear, if I didn’t love you I’d say we should just leave you here,” Joe said.

“You don’t love him that much. We really should leave him here,” Patrick sighed.

“Hey, do you need a bus ticket?”

The four turned around. The kid standing next to him couldn’t have been more than sixteen and was dressed like… well, like Pete. He was wearing headphones which connected to an MP3 player in the pocket of his black hoodie. The hoodie matched his black jeans and black combat boots, and served to highlight his bright-red hair.

“Don’t talk to him,” Andy whispered to Pete.

“Come on, he’s my only chance,” Pete replied. Then, to the kid, he said, “Do you have a ticket?”

“I have a buddy back a ways who I could get one from. Come with me. You’ll be able to catch the next bus if we go now.”

It was suspicious as hell. But what other option did Pete have? He took off his bass and handed it to Patrick, just in case anything happened to him.

Andy just shook his head as Pete followed the kid away from the bus stop.

“So where is this guy?” Pete asked.

“Oh, just a ways away,” the kid said, leading Pete towards and eventually down an alley.

“I… I don’t need the ticket. Can we go back now?”

“Liar!” The kid turned around impossibly fast and clamped a hand around Pete’s throat. With one hand he pushed Pete against the brick wall of a building, and with the other he held a single bus ticket.

“Are you giving me your ticket?” Pete asked, his voice shaking.

“I will. Promise,” the kid said, making a cross over his heart with his free hand. Pete remembered wondering how a vampire could do that without… getting shocked or something. “As long as you let me do this.”

The kid jumped on Pete, clamping his jaw around his neck. Pete held his breath, waiting for him to finish feeding. But he wasn’t feeding. It was worse. So much worse.

Before Pete even knew what was happening, he heard words like the hiss of a snake being whispered in his ear.

_No, no, no. He’s turning me._

“Why the hell are you doing that? I’m not joining your gang, if that’s the idea.”

“This isn’t about my gang,” the kid said as soon as he’d finished whispering his snake-words to Pete. “This is about music.”

“What about music? My band isn’t that bad!”

“Exactly. So now that you’ve been turned, you’ll be off the map. No one wants to see a band with a creature of the night as its lead. So with you gone, my buddy’s band is going to be free to take your place.”

“Bullshit,” Pete said.

“We’ll see how you feel in a month when the local paper says your shows are just traps set up so you can feed on unsuspecting victims when the music stops.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“You don’t have control over it.”

“Hey!”

Pete turned his head as far as he could. It was Andy, stake in hand. He rushed toward Pete and the kid. The kid let go of Pete’s throat and thrust his bus ticket at Pete, and Pete took it. Andy lunges at him with the stake, but the kid was too fast, too nimble. He lived up to the vampire stereotype, leaping over a wire fence in the alley. Andy moved to climb after him, but Pete stopped him.

“Don’t bother.”

“He… he did something to you. He hurt you. I have to make him pay.”

“He’s just a kid. He just made a stupid decision. He doesn’t deserve to die for it.”

“What do you mean a stupid decision? He was just feeding.”

“No. He wasn’t.”

Andy’s eyes widened. “Then I have to go after him,” he said. “If he turned you…”

“No. Whatever he did, it doesn’t matter. You’d never catch up to him, and even if you did, he doesn’t deserve to die. He even gave me a bus ticket. Like he promised.”

“A fucking bus ticket doesn’t excuse turning you, Pete!” Andy shouted. “He didn’t just feed on you, you don’t understand how big this is. He took away your humanity.”

“I can still be human.”

“God dammit Pete, you really don’t get it do you? You’re a vampire now. You’re going to be just like them. You’re going to have to go out and night and jump people and suck them dry.”

“I… I can deal with that. I’m just going to have to hope there aren’t people out there like you who wouldn’t hesitate to kill me just because of what I am.”

“Pete, I’d never hurt you. Even though you’re a vampire, you’re still Pete.”

“Sure. Whatever. Let’s just go home. Patrick and Joe are going to get worried.”

The two of them began walking out of the alley and towards the bus stop. Pete gripped the bus ticket tightly in his hand. He’d gotten turned for this stupid thing, he wasn’t about to drop it.

“We can wait to tell Joe and Patrick what happened until tomorrow. The changes don’t usually start until a few hours later, so chances are they won’t even notice,” Andy suggested.

“I feel bad hiding it from them though.”

“Better than them freaking out.”

They kept walking in silence. Pete knew he should have been feeling something, but… he just didn’t. He just felt like Pete. Maybe he’d start feeling things when he actually started changing. Maybe that was when the fear and the guilt over having to become something evil started creeping in.

Pete kept trying to remind himself that vampires weren’t evil. He’d always maintained that, that they were just doing what it took to survive, like everyone else. But he felt a little differently about that when he realized it was going to be him sneaking out into the night and jumping on unsuspecting passersby who were stupid enough to walk around at night without protection.

Whatever. He’d get used to it eventually.

Joe and Patrick greeted them eagerly when they arrived at the bus stop.

“Did you get the ticket?” Patrick asked.

“Yup,” Pete replied, holding it up.

The bus arrived moments later, and the four stepped on, instruments in hand. Patrick was still holding Pete’s bass along with his own guitar. Pete was about to offer to take it back as they settled down on the bus. They were all able to sit-hardly anyone rode at night, just due to the sheer low number of people who stayed out after hours. The bar they’d just played at stopped selling drinks at some point, but was still open at all hours so patrons wouldn’t have to go out into the night. People who weren’t equipped to fight would often pass out on the floor because they couldn’t return home with the threat of vampires afoot.

It made Pete think of those TV ads, politicians claiming that vampirism was an epidemic that needed to be fixed to ensure the safety of the city. Some offered to help find a cure, or open blood banks to give vampires a source of food so they wouldn’t have to jump people. Others were more extreme in their tactics-threatening to change laws to allow unprovoked attacks on vampires, or even offer payment to people who killed vampires. Pete really felt content with just letting vampires be. Sure, the image of a bunch of people sleeping on the floor of a bar or in the booths of a McDonald’s to avoid vampires was less than ideal, but it had really become part of the culture.

Although Pete supposed he was pretty biased now, considering he was about to be forced to go out and feed himself.

They arrived back at their flat and put away their instruments in silence. Pete took off his shirt and crawled into bed. He was soon joined by a fully clothed and obviously very sleepy Patrick. Pete instinctively draped his arm across Patrick’s chest. Being next to him had always felt right, even if Pete wasn’t sure why.

Pete expected to have trouble sleeping that night, but he didn’t. He was a bit of an insomniac, and vampirism was meant to turn you nocturnal, but this night in particular he slept easily.

When he woke up, however, everything felt a lot worse.

The light from the window in his room was way too bright. Pete pulled the blanket over his head, but it didn’t do much. His entire mouth hurt, like he’d just gotten half his teeth pulled without anaesthetic. He reached up to touch the sorest areas. Fangs had started to grow in where his canines used to be. They were sharp enough that they nearly cut him, and he realized they were going to be significantly longer than the teeth they’d replaced once they finished growing in.

Worst of all, he was hungry.

It felt different from any kind of hunger he had felt before. His stomach rumbled, yes, but it was accompanied by a primal urge to bite down on someone.

He poked his head up from under the covers. The bright light of the window stung his eyes and made his head hurt, but he could make out the shape of someone else standing over him. Patrick shaped.

“Patrick, can you close the blinds?” he mumbled. Patrick slowly walked over to the window, shut the blinds, and drew the curtains. He didn’t take his eyes off Pete the whole time.

Once it was significantly dark in the room, Pete could see Patrick clearly. Fuck, he looked… amazing. The feeling was similar to what he’d felt about Patrick before, an urge to jump on him and do nasty things to him, but this time it was definitely linked to feeding. Patrick’s neck was soft and pale, and Pete just knew he was full of blood and that his blood would taste so good. Sweet and strong and filling.

_No. He couldn’t do that. Not to Patrick._

“How do you feel?” Patrick asked nervously.

“Fine,” Pete lied. “I just… have a headache.”

“Pete, Andy told me what happened.”

Pete couldn’t help but be upset. This should have been his secret to tell.

“I’m sorry Patrick. I was stupid.”

“How are we going to have a band, Pete? You can’t go out in the daylight, and we’re not going out at night. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I didn’t ask to be turned.”

“You followed that vamp with the bus ticket. You should have known.”

“Look, either I was going to follow him and get jumped, or we were going to all wait at that bus stop for who knows how long and probably all get jumped.”

“You didn’t just get jumped, Pete! You’re a vampire now.”

“I know.”

“Pete, I don’t think you’re really understanding the gravity of the situation. This is… dangerous. You’re going to need to feed, and there’s no guarantee what’s going to happen when you do.”

“I’m not going to feed off you, if that’s your concern. You guys are off limits, I promise.” Pete’s stomach begged to differ, growling at the thought of sucking blood from Patrick’s neck. Sweet, sweet Patrick… god, he’d taste so fucking good. But Pete promised.

“No, Pete, I’m worried for you.”

Pete looked up at Patrick in surprise. He knew Patrick couldn’t see him, but there was so much confusion and reverence in his eyes. It was a cocktail of emotions that Pete tended to associate with Patrick. Unconditional love and pure dumbfoundment.

Patrick slowly felt his way back into the bed and sat down next to Pete.

“I was thinking,” he said. “There are people out there who want to hurt you. When you try and feed, you can bet someone is going to be ready with holy water. The burns from that are ugly, Pete. You should know. You’ve used it.”

“Vampires heal fast. It won’t be that bad.” Pete knew he was just kidding himself. He’d seen the burns holy water left on vampires. It was far from fatal, sure, but the stuff completely melted the skin off of any vampire it touched. The burns left by it took the form of deep, almost charred wounds, as if someone had thrown molten metal at the victims. Yeah, vampires did heal fast, and holy water burns went away completely after a few days, but those things probably hurt like hell.

“It’s not just holy water,” Patrick added. “There are people like… like Andy, but worse. You could get staked just for walking around town. And you’re not going to heal from that.”

“Look, Patrick, I have to do what I have to do. And a vampire has to feed. Not now though. Right now I’m going back to bed.” Pete rolled over and pulled the sheets further around himself.

“Mind if I join you?” Patrick asked.

“Didn't you just wake up? Don’t tell me you’re turning nocturnal now.”

“No. I just… I want to be with you for a while. Just in case, you know…”

“Oh, Patrick. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Patrick asked.

“Yeah. I promise I’ll be okay.”

“You can’t just promise that.”

“Sure I can. You have to trust me.”

“Okay.” Patrick buried himself under the blankets and curled up next to Pete. Pete’s heart jumped. He could feel Patrick’s pulse against him, fuck, he was hungry. He gently put a hand to Patrick’s neck. His skin was so soft and warm, all he wanted to do was sink his teeth into that neck.

Pete’s hand went to Patrick’s neck without him even realizing it. He gently stroked the soft skin of Patrick’s throat, and his stomach made an audible growling noise.

“Pete?” Patrick said nervously. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Pete retorted, pulling his hand away from Patrick’s throat.

“You’re not thinking of…”

“I’m just hungry, Patrick. I’m so hungry.”

“Do you think you can control yourself for the day? You can’t go out and feed until nightfall.”

“Maybe.”

“Just sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”

And so Pete slept, curled up against Patrick, his face buried in his neck. The gentle rhythm of Patrick’s pulse was maddening, and only served to intensify Pete’s craving. By the time Pete awoke in the late hours of the evening, he was so ravenous he probably would’ve taken a chunk out of Patrick if Patrick had still been lying next to him.

Instead, Patrick was standing over Pete holding a kitchen knife.

“It won’t kill me if it’s not a stake,” Pete said.

“I’m not killing you,” Patrick grumbled. “This is for you to use. Take it out with tonight. Just in case.”

“Come on, Patrick, I can fend for myself.”

“Pete, I’ve known you for four years. You have never been able to fend for yourself.”

“Fine,” Pete conceded, grabbing the knife from Patrick.

“Look, I’m not saying you’re weak or anything,” Patrick said defensively. “I’m just saying… you’re small… and kind of stupid…”

“I get it, Patrick,” Pete laughed. “Just don’t worry about me, okay?” He took the kitchen knife from Patrick as he slid out of bed. Hastily he put on a jacket and a pair of shoes, and ventured out into the night, knife held at his side.

Pete had barely turned the corner of the sidewalk when he spotted his first potential victim.

 _Not a victim,_ Pete told himself. But he didn’t really believe it. There was nothing else to call the people he fed on. “Prey” didn’t sound much better, and “food source” seemed to be putting it a bit too lightly.

The man was older, not really elderly but definitely not young either. He was bald, massively overweight, and wearing a black suit. Considering he was too old to be out as some kind of rebellion, and too well-off to really need to be out, this man was either a tourist or just a huge idiot. Perfect.

Pete ran soundlessly up to the man and leapt upon him from behind. It was difficult to just grab onto the man, so Pete wound up digging his fingernails into the man’s shoulders as he prepared to bite down. This got quite the rise out of the man, and he shouted curses at Pete as he attempted to shake him off. Still, Pete held firm and bit down upon the thick flesh of the man’s neck.

Pete nearly gagged. The man tasted of sweat and cologne, and not good cologne either. His blood wasn’t much better; it was pretty much the same flavor but a bit more metallic. Pete begrudgingly finished his meal because hey, this guy was essentially free food even if his blood tasted awful.

The man appeared to have stopped putting up a fight, and was pretty much just standing on the sidewalk waiting for Pete to detach from his neck. Pete was more than happy to do this, taking in a final gulp before pulling his teeth away and leaping back onto the sidewalk.

The man ran off as fast as he could (not very fast, Pete could have caught up if he’d wanted to), and Pete stayed standing on the sidewalk for a while. He knew he was pushing his luck; every minute he was out there just increased the chance that he’d get jumped by a group of vampire hunters. So after a few minutes, he began walking home. It wasn’t too far, only about a single block. Pete wasn’t worried.

Until, of course, he felt a horrific burning on the back of his neck.

Instinctively, he turned around, placing a hand to his neck as he did so. The skin of his neck was already blistered and raw, and he could feel the burn slowly making its way down his back and onto his hand as the holy water dripped down his body. He looked around, searching for his attacker. There didn’t seem to be anyone around. Pete whipped his head back around, fearing whoever it was had moved to his other side. This barely allowed him to miss another shot of holy water, which this time hit the side of his face, singing his cheek before falling to the sleeve of his hoodie. He managed to catch a glance of his assailant this time: a kid who couldn’t have been more than fifteen holding a bright green super-soaker presumably full of holy water.

“Aren’t you a little young to be out at this hour?” Pete called out into the night. He began his walk home again, this time quickening his pace.

“Aren’t you a little dead to be out at this hour?” called a shrill, irritating voice from somewhere behind Pete. “Go bury yourself in the ground, blood-sucker!”

“I’m not dead, you ignorant little shit,” Pete called out in response, now speeding up to a run. He arrived in front of his house, rushed up the stairs, and closed the door.

Patrick was waiting inside. He gasped when he saw Pete’s face.

“Oh my god, Pete. Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Pete sighed. “Some kid got me with a super-soaker full of holy water.”

“I told you you were going to get hurt if you went out. Have you seen yourself? You look like you just escaped a house fire.”

“Rude,” Pete scoffed. “I told you, vampires heal fast. I’ll be fine by tomorrow night.”

“And then what? You’re just going to go out and do it all over again and hope you don’t get staked? Pete, I don’t want to see you come home all burned up like this for… what, the rest of your life? Forever?”

“Come on, Patrick. You have to accept it. It’s just something I do now. There’s nothing I can do to change it. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go to back to sleep.”

“See? You’ve only been awake an hour. This is what this shit does to you.”

“Needing to be awake at night doesn’t mean I don’t want to be asleep at night. Let’s face it, there’s nothing for me to do now. May as well just sleep the night away.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Come on…”

“Pete, look, you have to face the music. This isn’t something that you can just keep doing. It’s only a matter of time before someone takes a stake to your heart, and… I want to be with you for the rest of the time you have left in this world.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

“You’re so dismissive about me caring about you dying.”

“Yeah, what’s new?”

Patrick sighed. Pete wasn’t wrong. He had always been flippant about his own demise, to the point that it occasionally bordered on suicidal ideation. Nothing that ever got him put in the hospital, but certainly some stuff that probably should have.

As the two of them returned to their room, Pete could tell Patrick was moving closer to him. He felt bad, he really did. He didn’t want to die on his best friend. That was his only fear about being a vampire. Well, that and ruining the band, but it was clear that the former was obviously more important.

“Pete… I care about you. I can’t let you do this.”

“Look, Patrick, if I’m going to die, I’d rather get a stake to the heart than starve to death. At least that’s quicker.”

“There has to be another way, right? Can you drink animal blood? I think they sell it at those weird hipster supermarkets.”

“Worth a shot, I guess.”

“Alright. I’ll go try and pick some up for you tomorrow. It’ll be in the fridge tomorrow night if I manage to find it. Just promise me you won’t go out again?”

“And what if animal blood isn’t good enough? I just… go hungry?”

“I’ll figure something out,” Patrick sighed. “I promise. I’m not going to let this kill you.”

He put his arm around Pete, holding onto him and gently running his hands through Pete’s hair. Patrick didn’t want Pete to see him cry. The thought of someone driving a stake through his heart or burning him alive was sickening, and it terrified Patrick. Those things were more than just possibilities, they were bound to happen. Vampires rarely survived very long after being turned due to the large number of people trying to kill them, which did little to reduce the overall vampire population but sure as hell must have been tearing apart a lot of friendships.

Patrick did manage to find some pork blood at a weird hipster supermarket the next day. It came in a plastic container like the kind which typically held party-sized amounts of potato salad or the like, and was congealed into an unappetising paste. Patrick figured that even a starving vampire probably wouldn’t want to eat something like that, but he bought it anyway, hoping Pete was as desperate as he was to avoid the dangers that awaited vampires who dared venture outside to feed.

When Patrick arrived home, he attempted to salvage the blood-paste by popping it a blender at mixing it with some water. He wondered in passing as he was pouring the poorly re-liquefied blood into a pitcher if there were any other foods vampires could safely eat. Sure, he knew garlic was bad, and anything besides blood didn’t really have any nutritional value, but maybe there was something that could at least make the blood mixture taste better.

Even then, who knew? Maybe part of the vampire transformation was acquiring a taste for blood.

Patrick fell asleep again for a short time, but wound up waking up again later that night along with Pete. He decided he’d rather hang out then go back to sleep, so he followed Pete into the kitchen.

“I found blood for you. It’s in a pitcher in the fridge,” he offered.

“Cool,” Pete said casually as he opened the refrigerator door. He pulled out the pitcher of red liquid and quizzically swirled it around a few times.

“I mixed it with some water. Hopefully that’ll make it closer to the consistency of actual blood.”

“Oh. Thanks. Vampires can drink normal water, right?”

“I’d assume. I mean, isn’t there water in the human body?”

“Maybe not in the blood though.”

“Still. You’re probably getting some other stuff in your mouth when you drink from someone. I’d say there’s at least some water in there.”

“Makes sense to me, I guess.” Pete still hadn’t met Patrick’s gaze. He swirled the stinking red liquid in the pitcher around a few more times before tipping it up and bringing it directly to his lips without even bothering to get a glass. It tasted more like rotting meat than like blood. Pete coughed, sending most of the mixture he’d swallowed back up onto the counter.

“Are you sure that’s blood?” Pete asked. He leaned on the counter to support himself before coughing again, this time sending a spray of the blood-mixture across the counter, barely missing Patrick as he did so.

“The container had a sticker on it that said ‘pork blood’, so I’d assume so.”

“Fuck. I guess human blood is the only good kind, then.” This statement made Patrick hesitate, almost letting him hear the kind of monster Pete had apparently become. But he shook it off.

“Is it that bad?”

“Try it if you want, but speaking as a guy who really has a taste for blood, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Oh well. It was worth a shot.”

Pete nodded, opening up one of the cabinets and pulling out a glass. He turned on the faucet and filled it with water, then quickly gulped it down. It did nothing to quench his growing thirst, but it did wash the disgusting taste of pork blood out of his mouth and throat. Still, he found himself becoming ever hungrier. He filled his glass again before turning back towards Patrick, trying not to pay too much attention to his neck. Fuck, he would just taste so good…

“So… what are you going to do?” Patrick asked, not noticing where exactly Pete’s gaze had wandered.

“I don’t know. Considering you won’t let me go outside, I was thinking of popping into Joe and Andy’s room and trying a few sips of one of them. You think vegans’ blood tastes any different from other people’s?”

“Pete, come on. Tell me you’re joking.”

“I don’t know. I’m kind of running out of options here.”

“You’re turning into a monster, you know that?”

“Um, hello? That already happened. That was two days ago. It’s over and done with. And even then, a monster has to eat too! Would you rather I starve?”

Patrick said nothing.

“Would you?” Pete’s face fell. He looked at Patrick with the most desperate, pitiful look on his face.

“I… no. I wouldn’t,” Patrick conceded. “I don’t want you to die, Pete. I wouldn’t ever want to lose you.”

“Then I need to go out and feed, okay? Can you handle that?”

Patrick paused again, looking Pete over. His fangs popped out of his mouth as he spoke, only making him look even cuter. He was perfect; he always had been and Patrick knew it.

He just couldn’t send him out into the cruel, hateful world again.

“No!” he insisted. “I can’t let you go out again! I fucking love you, okay? I don’t want to find you bleeding out of your chest on our front steps. And even barring that, I don’t want to see you all burned up again.”

“I can fend for myself. And look, like I told you, all the burns are gone! I’ll be fine, I swear.”

“Look… you can feed off of me instead.”

Pete stopped dead in his tracks. This was not a solution he had considered. There was something deeply wrong about him feeding off of Patrick, it almost felt the same as punching him in the face. Even in a friendly wrestling match or something, hurting Patrick in any way would always feel deeply wrong. He was pristine, beautiful, untouched by the violence of the world. And Pete wanted him to stay that way.

“I can’t do that to you,” Pete argued.

“Yes, you can. I’m giving you my consent. It’s more than anyone else you try and feed off of ever gives you, you know.”

“Turning this into a sex allegory isn’t helping your case.”

“It’s making the point that feeding off me means you aren’t a predator.”

“Patrick, I swear. This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not kidding!” Patrick reached up to his neck and pulled down the collar of his shirt. “Come on. Bite me right now, if you want.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It won’t hurt that bad. Like a flu shot, I’m assuming.”

“I guarantee you, it’s worse than that. I was bit too, you know. That shit hurts. And I can’t imagine what it would be like to have someone do it to you every night. Your whole neck would be covered in bruises, probably.”

“If that’s what it takes to keep you safe, I can handle some bruises. And besides, come on. I know you have a thing for bruises.”

Pete shifted uncomfortably.

“Yeah, when I was younger. Back when I was going through my edgy punk phase.”

“When did that end, exactly?”

“Probably when I stopped wearing a dog collar out in public, but I think you’re trying to lead me towards never.”

Patrick sighed. He shook his head, remembering the dog collar. There was nothing cute or sexy about it, Pete just kind of… wore a dog collar for a while. It was just a thing. Pete had a lot of things, and it made him all the more endearing to Patrick. It made him further realize how awful it would really be to lose Pete.

“Alright, here’s the thing. I can’t force you to stay inside. I can’t force you to feed off of me. I’m just saying that if you don’t stay in and feed off of me, you’re probably going to die. And that would hurt, okay? I don’t want you to die.” Patrick was now making a conscious effort not to say the three words he desperately wanted to say. It just wasn’t the time, and it felt too manipulative.

“Fine. I’ll do it,” Pete agreed at last. “I’ll do it just to show you how much it hurts, and then you’ll be willing to let me go out again.”

“What if I’m not?”

“You will be. Trust me. I can start whenever you’re ready.”

Patrick nodded, cautiously approaching Pete. He pulled his shirt collar down again and leaned his head up as if offering himself to Pete. Both Patrick and Pete were sickened a bit by the act, but Pete had to admit it was more convenient than trying to latch onto some unsuspecting passerby. He held onto Patrick’s shoulders, although he wasn’t sure whether or not that helped. Quickly he sank his teeth into the soft flesh of Patrick’s neck, and Patrick whimpered. Pete felt awful.

But his blood was delicious. It quenched his thirst instantly; it was rich and strong and soft and it filled his mouth and his throat and he reveled in the taste. He couldn’t help but feel guilty about it, but it was just so good. Even as he looked up and saw tears in Patrick’s eyes, he could hardly bring himself to stop.

Finally Pete pulled himself away, blood spraying from his mouth and dripping down his chin. His teeth were stained with blood, as was Patrick’s neck and shirt. Pete looked at him, with his tearful eyes and the still-bleeding wound on his neck. He felt sick to his stomach, and this time it wasn’t because of something he ate.

“I told you it was going to be awful,” he said to Patrick.

“No, it’s good. It’s alright. As long as you’re safe, as long as you’re eating…”

“Patrick, this isn’t okay.”

“It is. It is because I say it is, and it’s what we have to do to help you stay alive, okay?”

“What about you?”

“It’s not about me.”

“It kind of is. I mean, look at you. You’re covered in blood. You’re crying. Let’s… let’s go get you cleaned up. Or go yourself, I don’t want to hurt you anymore for one night.”

“Pete…” Patrick wanted so badly to say ‘you’re not hurting me,’ but the sharp pain in his neck said otherwise. He wanted so badly to see Pete as a good person, as someone incapable of hurting another person. But that wasn’t true anymore. Pete was a monster now. A very lovable monster, sure, but a monster nonetheless.

Pete dug through the kitchen drawers until he found a dish towel. He placed it against the wound on Patrick’s neck, pressing just hard enough that it would sop up all the blood that care out.

“You’re not going to drink that?”

“I’m full. And it should stop bleeding in a minute or so. Just drippings at this point.”

That statement disturbed Patrick. It made him sound just a bit more like the piece of food that the he’d become.

“Do you want a cookie or something?”

“What?” Patrick’s head spun. “Are you trying to fatten me up or something?”

“No, dumbass, I’m trying to help you. They always give people cookies after they donate blood, I feel like this is a similar concept.”

“What kind of cookies do we even have? I don’t think anyone’s gotten groceries in weeks.”

“That doesn’t mean no one bought any cookies, though.” Pate began rummaging through cabinets. He pulled out a package which ever so slightly resembled that of Oreos, but definitely contained something more health-oriented.

“Success?” Patrick asked, still holding the towel over his neck. It had started to sting less, and probably bleed less too, but he could still feel the two little holes in his flesh through the cloth.

“Some kind of vegan biscuit thing. Probably better than nothing though.”

“Fine. Just give me the package.”

Pete jumped off the counter and handed the package of cookies to Patrick. Patrick put the towel down so he could reach his hand inside the package and pull out a clumpy greenish-brown cracker. He regarded it coolly for a few seconds before taking a bite out of it.

“Good?”

“No. I don’t know how Andy eats these things.”

“I know, right? If I had to go vegan, I’d probably die.”

“You’d actually die. Blood isn’t vegan.”

“Disregarding me being a vampire-“

“I know what you meant.” Patrick laughed. Pete smiled. It felt good to be able to laugh with Patrick, although he couldn’t help but feel guilty considering what he’d just done.

“Hey, you should tell the guys I wanna try and do band practice again. Next time you’re awake at… a human hour.”

“Yeah. I mean, we’d have to work around your schedule, but we’ll make it work. We could even try and get a gig. I know some bars and restaurants host bands during the night if they keep their doors open all the time, which most do in this city considering the, uh…”

“I don’t think ‘vampire problem’ is offensive to my species. Granted, I haven’t met any that weren’t attacking me, but I figure you’re good.”

“Cool.” Patrick smiled awkwardly. He choked down the last of the biscuit before putting the package back in the cabinet.

“Going back to bed?” Pete asked.

“Yeah. I told you, I’m not nocturnal like you.”

“Actually, I don’t think vampires are nocturnal. I think the fact that they can’t be out in the sun too much forces them to wake up at night.”

“Whatever. I’m still going to bed.”

“I think I’ll join you.”

“Pete, you haven’t even been up for an hour.”

“I don’t care. Even if I don’t actually sleep, I think I’ll just…” Pete resisted the urge to say ‘watch you’, although he had no intention of doing anything else. Patrick was very cute when he slept, especially when he held onto the blankets and curled up into a little ball. It made Pete want to cuddle him to death.

“Watch me sleep?” Patrick interrupted Pete’s daydream about death-defying snuggles. Pete didn’t reply, only blushing nervously.

“You little creep,” Patrick sighed. He still bore a kind and wholesome smile, which was inviting despite his words.

“I mean, you had to know I was thirsting over you. I literally just drank your blood, for God’s sake.”

“Fuck you, Pete. Fuck you so hard.” Patrick walked up to him, the kind smile turning to a shit-eating grin. Pete braced himself for a punch, but what he got instead was a sloppy kiss on the cheek followed by Patrick rushing away to their bedroom.

“Wait, what was that?” Pete called after him, following him to their room. “What did that mean?”

But when he arrived, Patrick was already asleep, or more likely, he was pretending to be. Not wanting to wake him, Pete simply crawled into bed next to him. He figured he’d enjoy the show. Gently touching his fingers to the wounds on Patrick’s neck, he gently whispered,

“You’re amazing, Patrick.”

“Love you too, my little monster.”

A chill went through Pete’s body, and not in a bad way. The part about him being a monster was the least of his worries, because _fuck, Patrick loved him!_ And besides, he had to admit he liked being Patrick’s little monster. He continued cautiously touching the little holes in Patrick’s neck. It was surreal-he made those holes, he hurt Patrick like that. It felt so fucked up, but Pete kept reminding himself it was okay. Patrick let him do that, he wanted Pete to drink from him so he could stay alive.

And fuck, his blood had tasted good.

The next night Pete awoke to Patrick sitting in a chair he’d moved into the corner of his room, drinking a juice box. It was the kind kids get in their school lunches, purple and with a picture of a bunch of grapes with a smiley face on it. Patrick grinned at him just like those stupid cartoon grapes, and Pete groaned.

“What did you do?”

“I bought juice boxes,” Patrick explained. “Juice does something to your blood, right?”

“I mean, I think I had a friend with diabetes who would sometimes drink juice after testing his blood sugar. But I don’t think it’s going to do anything for like… losing a significant quantity of blood. I told you, cookies are the thing for that!” Pete said.

“I really think you’re just trying to fatten me up. And I’m not going to the store again.”

“Fine,” Pete grumbled. “So… you’re ready to do this again?”

“Yeah, it’s cool. I told you, you need to eat.”

Pete sighed. He got out of bed and shambled over to Patrick. Patrick tossed his now empty juice box aside and leaned his head back, exposing his neck to Pete. The two little holes from last night were still there, and Pete felt guilty. He was going to turn his beloved Patrick into a pincushion, with tiny holes all over his skin all made just so Pete could selfishly suck down another drop of his precious blood. Carefully Pete aligned his fangs with the previously made holes. Whether it would hurt more or less than biting Patrick somewhere else Pete wasn’t sure, but he figured the fewer holes Patrick had in his flesh, the better.

He bit down swiftly and Patrick flinched. Pete put his hands on Patrick shoulders, firmly holding onto him to keep him still as he drank. Patrick shuddered as Pete sucked down mouthful after mouthful of his blood, making satisfied little grunts every time he swallowed another sip. The thought that he tasted good was disturbing to Patrick to say the least. Of course, his blood was not the first part of his body Patrick would have chosen to be in Pete’s mouth. But the little monster had to eat, and who was Patrick to let him starve, or worse, leave himself to the mercy of hunters?

Pete tore his mouth from Patrick’s neck, letting a few drops of blood fall onto his lap. As he did so, Patrick slumped over in his chair, his head falling upon Pete’s chest.

“Oh my god,” Pete explained. “Fuck, oh my god. I killed you.”

Patrick grabbed onto Pete, wrapping his arms around him for dear life.

“Not quite. I’ll be okay, don’t worry.”

“Shh, Patrick. You need to come rest. Should I call an ambulance? Are you going to be okay? You did lose a lot of blood after all.”

“No, it’s okay, it wasn’t a lot.” He slid off his chair, leaning on Pete as he guided him into bed.

“You wouldn’t know what ‘a lot’ is. You wouldn’t know until you actually had lost a lot and you were dying from blood loss.”

“Pete, shut up. I’m fine.”

“How would you know?” Pete wiped a tear from his cheek. “I’m worried, Patrick. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not. You need to eat.”

“Stop justifying it! Take this whole thing out of context. Is it okay then?”

“No. I wouldn’t just let you hurt me for no reason. But there _is_ context, and you have to understand that. You need this.”

“You know, you could’ve just let me go outside. I wouldn’t have had to hurt you like this.”

“I couldn’t. I could never leave you to be fucking slaughtered by some teenager with a fence post. I’d rather die in your arms than have you die out on the street while a group of people cheer on your murder.”

“Patrick…”

“You know I’m right. That’s what happens to vampires, Pete. You know why you never see a vampire over forty?”

“Because they don’t age?”

“No! No, dumbass, it’s because they all get killed before then! And I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“I’m not going to die, Patrick.”

“I don’t know that. Look, I asked Joe and Andy to try and find us a gig, but now I’m not sure. I don’t think I want you going out.”

“You’re not my dad. I know you’re worried about me, but you don’t control me. You can’t just keep me locked inside to try and protect me.”

“You and I can play music whenever you want. But I still need to keep you safe.”

“No. You don’t. I’m an adult, Patrick. I can make my own decisions.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I don’t care.”

“Pete, I do.”

“But I care more about keeping you alive. You’ll survive without me, okay?”

“I…”

“Come on, move over. I’ll stay with you tonight, okay? But I’m going out tomorrow. Look at what happened to you. I can’t keep taking your blood.”

Patrick didn’t say anything. Arguing with Pete was pointless, as usual. When Pete convinced himself of something, it was hard to convince him otherwise. Pete crawled into bed next to Patrick, and Patrick immediately responded by snuggling up close to him and putting his arm around him. He cried into Pete’s shoulder. Pete ran his fingers through Patrick’s hair, trying desperately to comfort him, but it was no use.

“Pete, I can’t. I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.”

“But you don’t know that! And I can’t let you take that risk, because I… I love you, Pete.”

“I… love you too?”

“No, you don’t get it. I’ve always loved you, from the moment I first saw you I knew you were perfect. I knew I would love you forever. Do you really think I would have let you drink my blood like this if I didn’t love you, Pete?”

“Wow. I’m so stupid. I’m sorry, I wish I could have realized sooner. The thing is, you’re so sweet, Patrick. You’re amazing. And I want to love you too. I do. I swear.”

“If you really love me, don’t go out. Stay in here, stay safe. Please.”

“I can’t. Because I love you so much, and staying in means hurting you. I can’t hurt the person I love.”

“Then… kiss me. I want to feel your mouth against me one last time.”

“Why are you so sure I’m going to die?”

“I don’t know. I just… just kiss me.”

And so Pete did. He pressed his mouth to Patrick’s, passionately kissing him for what really shouldn’t have been the first time. Patrick let his tongue slip into Pete’s mouth, brushing softly against his sharp teeth. It was hot, he had to admit. He’d never considered himself the kind of guy who was into vampires, but hey, fangs are hot. Patrick even pulled out of the kiss to tell Pete so.

“Did you know fangs are fucking hot? Like, I want them inside me hot?”

“Gross. You’re not making this a sex thing. It’s bad enough as it is.”

“I personally think feeding on me would be improved by making it a sex thing.”

“No. Absolutely not. In fact, I’d have actual sex with you if you wanted, but keep my fangs out of it.”

“Not tonight. Too tired.”

“Alright. Night, Patrick.”

“Goodnight, my love.”

Pete knew Patrick meant that. He didn’t know how to feel about it, but he knew he meant it.

The next evening, however, Pete awoke before Patrick. He saw it as an opportunity. He planted a soft kiss on Patrick’s forehead before soundlessly sneaking out of bed and out of the house.

It was just as frightening outside as it had been on his first night after being turned. The sidewalks were mostly empty, but he could feel that every dark corner was full of someone just waiting to jump out and attack him. He cautiously wandered for a while, feeling utterly defenseless against any reckless kid or other vampire wanting to get a jump on him. It made him think of the kid who turned him. As morbid as it was, he hoped to god that kid had been staked. He had ruined Pete’s band; Joe and Andy hadn’t spoken to him since he’d been turned, and Patrick was reluctant to even let him go outside. They’d never play together again, and deep down, Pete knew that. That kid hadn’t just ruined the band, he’d ruined Pete’s whole life. He’d turned Pete into a monster, doomed to forever hurt the one person he loved, no matter what he chose to do.

Meanwhile, Patrick had been awakened by the absence of Pete next to him. He jolted out of bed and ran out the door, still in his pajamas. It didn’t matter what kind of awful things were out there, he had to find Pete.

Patrick had barely stepped out the door before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Pete?”

“Who?” Patrick turned around. A goth-looking girl with a horrible sharp-toothed grin stared back at him. She dragged him by the shoulder into the space between the two buildings.

“Please, dont,” Patrick begged her. “I have… someone else. He relies on me for food, I have to save my blood-“

“Then he’ll starve,” the goth girl cackled. “Doesn’t he know how vampires work? Eat or be eaten. And tonight, I’m eating.”

Patrick screamed. He couldn’t think of anything else to do. Teeth sank into his neck, and then he started crying, sobbing at the top of his lungs. Pete was out there somewhere, probably getting himself killed. And he was powerless to stop it.

“Hey!”

The girl pulled her fangs from Patrick’s neck. She turned and hopped over a fence, leaving Patrick confused and pressed against the wall of a building.

“Pete?”

“Yeah,” Pete smiled. “Did she save any for me?”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to feed off me anymore.”

“I don’t know. I don’t really think there’s an alternative. Whether I go out or I feed off you, I’m going to hurt you. And I guess I’d rather hurt you in a way you want to be hurt.”

“Thought you said it wasn’t a sex thing,” Patrick laughed.

“It’s not! I didn’t say that! I’m just saying, if you’re cool with it…”

“Let’s go home first. This alley thing feels kind of prostitute-y”

“Yeah.”

The two of them walked home holding hands. Who was protecting whom by doing this wasn’t exactly clear, but it made both of them feel safer.

As soon as they got inside, Patrick sat on one of the kitchen chairs and Pete began to search the cabinets for some kind of snack for him. He pulled out the gross vegan crackers, and got a juice box out of the fridge. He set them on the table in front of Patrick, and Patrick picked up the juice box and started drinking it.

“You know, if I’m gonna keep doing this, you have to let me buy you some cookies. I swear, that’s what you’re supposed to eat after giving blood.”

“Sure, whatever. Just get it over with in the meantime.”

Pete complied, leaning over Patrick and sinking his teeth into his neck. Patrick flinched and grunted, but it was nowhere close to the screams of terror he’d produced when another vamp had decided to bite down on him. Pete actually licked his lips when he finished his meal. Patrick couldn’t decide if it was gross or cute, but he was leaning towards cute. More like sexy, really.

“You know, give it a couple more days, you’re gonna have a vampire thing,” Pete commented as Patrick fished a cracker out of the package.

“How do you know I don’t already have a vampire thing?” Patrick asked.

“Fair,” Pete replied.

“So… you still interested in band practice?”

“I mean, a gig sounds fun if you’re cool with it. And if you can get Joe and Andy to be awake at the same time as me. In the meantime I think I’m willing to take up your offer on just the two of us practicing.”

“Awww. That’d be awesome,” Patrick said, smiling. He stood up carefully, shoving the rest of the cracker in his mouth and enveloping Pete in a hug.

“I love you, Patrick,” Pete laughed.

“Love you too, my little monster.”


End file.
